


off the page

by whenthesunhasset



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I am so sorry for this, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Book 4: A Court of Silver Flames, like very mild, mild spoilers for acosf, nesta rides cassian bc its what the world deserves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 13:49:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30073218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenthesunhasset/pseuds/whenthesunhasset
Summary: A wicked smile graced her lips, and she hid it from his sight by turning to press a kiss to the brown skin of his shoulder. “Read to me?” she asked, voice a touch too innocent to be believable. Nesta knew exactly where she’d left off in her book. Right on cue, the book dropped onto the towel folded and waiting beside the tub.
Relationships: Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 2
Kudos: 69





	off the page

**Author's Note:**

> this started with me complaining about how we didn't get a scene of nesta riding cassian and somehow turned into a thousand words of fluff and 3500 words of just pure porn i don't know what happened. i haven't written smut in like, a decade. this has like 10 entire lines of dialogue and most of it's dirty talk. enjoy.

Every step forward sent an ache radiating through her bones. No matter how many hours and days and weeks she spent training, no matter that she’d proved her skill and then some during the Blood Rite, there were days where her mornings left her body battered and bruised and crying out with every movement. Objectively, she’d expected this—the Mother knew Cassian certainly hadn’t let her forget that soreness could creep up on even the most seasoned warrior—but as she stumbled back into her chambers after an afternoon of mindless work with Gwyn in the library, Nesta still found herself mumbling curses with each pull of strained muscles.

Before she’d even entered her room, Nesta heard the sound of running water and felt some of the tension in her drop with her sigh of relief. She opened the door with a bit more vigor and entered, closing it behind her and leaning against the sturdy wood as she inhaled deeply. Lavender. Eucalyptus. Counting a magic house among her closest friends certainly had its perks.

Words of thanks seemed beyond her, but Nesta trusted that the House knew. It always knew. Besides, Emerie had gifted her a book that had quickly become a new favorite; once she finished it, she’d offer it to the House as a peace offering.

Each article of clothing shed took herculean effort, the ache in her very bones leaving her toeing the line of exhaustion. The heat of the water as she sunk into the huge tub felt like a religious experience, and it took the last of Nesta’s resolve to rest her head and arms along the edge, to stop herself from sinking completely under the surface. Before she’d even fully settled, her eyes had drifted closed, content to let herself rest for just a few moments before beginning the arduous task of scrubbing herself clean.

When she next blinked her eyes open, it was to the sight of her mate looming over her, arms crossed and a familiar smirk on his face. Nesta must have drifted off if she hadn’t heard Cassian enter. Either that or the house had muffled the noise so as not to disrupt her—really, it could be either. Distantly, she noted Cassian’s lips moving, but any comprehension was beyond her. Nesta let out a low groan in what she hoped was a sufficient response and let her eyes droop closed again; a minute or an hour could have passed since she’d gotten in the tub, the heat of the water giving nothing away, but she would have been content to languish there for the rest of the evening.

The sound of Cassian’s laugh had her opening her eyes just enough to glare at him, searching deep inside herself for the ability to voice some biting remark about how she was _so glad he was enjoying himself_. Cassian only responded to her glare with a wink, and then his hands began making quick work of removing his leathers, and, well, if anything could perk Nesta up, it was _that_.

He grinned as if he knew it, as if he sensed the sudden burst of awareness down the bond, and the look in his eyes was filled with pure male arrogance that usually had her blood pumping. And yet his voice was soft and intimate as he nodded towards her, the last of his clothing dropping away. “Move forward, Nes.”

Nesta groaned again but complied; a part of her wanted to provide some taunting response, but the weariness in her bones called for the solid, familiar press of his body too desperately for her to bother. With slow movements, she shifted forward, resting her arms and her head on bent knees and listening to the sounds of disrupted water as Cassian slid in behind her.

Carefully, so carefully, he extended his legs to either side of her, broad hands solid and steady on her waist coaxing her to lean back into him. The massive tub had been one of their first purchases after their mating ceremony so many months before, once they’d finally settled on whose rooms to move into—hers, a floor below rather than right next door to Azriel’s often-used rooms, and if the shadowsinger’s slight sigh of relief had been any indication, the preferred choice of the House’s other regular tenant—and while it had been purchased, and in fact was often used, for much more exciting activities, well, who could blame Nesta for enjoying this too?

Leaning back into Cassian’s warm embrace occurred in slow fits and starts, until with a huff he lifted her slightly and moved her back against his chest himself, impatient even in his tenderness. “I feel as old as you,” Nesta muttered, a twitch of her lips accompanying the words. She moved to lace her fingers with his, letting their joined hands rest against her abdomen.

A rumbling laugh sent vibrations through her body, and Nesta hummed at the feeling. “And yet despite my old age, _I_ am not the one too sore to move.” Nesta drove an elbow half-heartedly into the solid wall of muscle behind her, as if to say _I can move well enough_. All it earned her was a kiss to the top of her head. Every now and then, it would hit her, that awe at how far they’d come, at how far _she’d_ come. A few years ago, she never would have believed she could feel such love, such joy; even still, she was never fully certain that she deserved it. Deserved him. But even if she didn’t—she could stomach a bit of selfishness, she figured, and pulled his arms more tightly around her.

Moments of quiet like this were something Nesta would never get used to, moments where it was just the two of them wrapped around each other, moments where nothing existed besides her and her mate. It was enough, to lean against him and let the heat from his body soothe her just as much as the heat from the water. It was enough, to let herself be held and to let herself be loved, to let herself love him in return. It was enough.

A lifetime later, or perhaps only a few minutes later, Cassian shifted behind her, one arm tightening against her torso to press them even closer together. When he pressed another kiss to the top of her head, she shifted enough to peer up at him, eyebrow arched in silent question. Her muscles were finally starting to loosen up, some energy finally returning to her, and it seemed her mate was starting to grow restless. Nesta knew him well enough—knew _them_ well enough—that she knew how this was going to end. Since he’d first come to her bed, they’d never been able to spend too long pressed against each other before the need to touch, to taste, seeped in, but Nesta wasn’t quite ready to move just yet.

Instead, she twisted her body to face him a bit more and tilted up her chin. Cassian leaned down to meet her lips without hesitation. Nesta smiled into the kiss, letting it draw out in a long and languorous slide of tongues and teeth and lips, before pulling away and settling back against him once more. And if she shifted her hips more than was truly necessary, well, who could blame her for a little tease?

A wicked smile graced her lips, and she hid it from his sight by turning to press a kiss to the brown skin of his shoulder. “Read to me?” she asked, voice a touch too innocent to be believable. Nesta knew _exactly_ where she’d left off in her book. Right on cue, the book dropped onto the towel folded and waiting beside the tub.

For a heartbeat, Cassian remained perfectly still behind her. He knew her too well, always had, and knew damn well what kind of books she preferred. He undoubtedly understood exactly what game she was playing, yet Nesta gave nothing away, drawing lazy circles with her thumb on the back of his hand as she waited. He didn’t keep her waiting for long.

“Whatever you want, Nesta.” His tone was full of dark promise, and Nesta suppressed a shiver—uselessly, given how closely they were pressed together. There was something about the way he said her name sometimes, like a prayer, like she was something to be worshipped, that never failed to make her toes curl. Cassian untangled one of his hands and leaned over to dry it off on the towel and grab the book, flicking it open to where she’d left off. Before he began reading, he ensured she was settled back against him, then tilted his head so that he was speaking directly into her ear, voice dropping an octave.

If he was startled by the content, he was careful not to show it. The night before, Nesta had stopped right as the book’s heroine found herself pressed against the wall, the couple finally about to give in to their tension. Normally, she’d have been eager to devour the scene, but Cassian had come to bed just as she reached it. Satisfying _her_ tension had seemed far more important than the book in that moment. It seemed, now, that she’d had the right idea.

As he read, he unlaced the fingers of his other hand from Nesta’s and began drawing idle lines over her stomach, caress featherlight, the sensations against her skin as much from the movement of the water against her as from his touch. The characters in the book made it onto the bed, and still, he continued, voice rumbling in his chest as his hands continued their teasing path.

“ _He kissed his way up her neck, to that spot underneath her ear, dragging a hungry moan from her_.” Cassian pressed closer until he was speaking into her skin, and his next words were his own. “Will you moan for me, Nesta, when I kiss you here?” Blood heating and warmth pooling deep in her core, Nesta felt her breath hitch. Her body thrummed in anticipation, but all he did was laugh softly and flip the page, continuing as if he’d never stopped.

The more he read, the more his fingers trailed so carefully across her skin, drifting so close to where she needed his touch only to dance away again, the more Nesta’s pulse quickened. The more she _hungered_ , exhaustion drifting further and further from her mind. Cassian brushed along the underside of her breast, and she figured it was beyond time to take back some control in this game she’d started. Shifting her hips, so subtly it could almost seem accidental, she ground back against where he lay hot and hard behind her. His words faltered, and she repeated the move, harder this time, more deliberate. All he did was flatten his hand against her stomach, stilling her, pressing her tight against him.

“I thought you wanted me to read,” she could hear the feral grin in his voice. “Stop distracting me.”

Nesta mentally cursed at the author, wishing she’d speed the damn couple up.

Finally, _finally_ , the characters were divested of the last of their clothes. Finally, _finally_ , the male’s hands were drifting south on his lover’s body. Finally, _finally_ , Cassian’s actions followed the words and made their way down, down, down.

One finger dragged through her core, and it took every ounce of her self-control not to cry out, not to beg him to get on with it. This game had been her idea, and she wasn’t about to let him win it so easily. When he simply hovered there, over that bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs, she ground against him once more. Leaning forward slightly, Nesta moved her hand to slide it between their bodies, needing to feel him, no matter how awkward the angle. It was the wrong move, apparently; the hand between her thighs moved lightning fast, grabbing her wrist before she could reach his cock.

Cassian raised her arm, placing her hand behind his neck, then moving to place the other there as well. Tangling her dripping fingers in the long hair at the nape of his neck, Nesta had no choice but to play along or surrender completely. She arched her back, spread her legs as wide as she could, placing her body on display for him. The bastard didn’t even stop reading—but his hand returned between her legs, and slowly, so slowly, he eased a finger into her tight, wet heat.

Nesta felt as if she was going to burst into flames. He dragged the finger out, to her entrance, then slid back in with two fingers. Each movement was lazy, deliberate in its too-soft too-little pressure. A part of her was aware that he continued to read, but all her focus had narrowed in on the feel of those movements inside of her. Clenching her inner walls, she bared down on his fingers, writhing in that way that drove him crazy just as much as it did her. It wasn’t enough; Cassian made sure she couldn’t chase her pleasure, made sure to mimic her movements just enough to keep her panting, desperate.

The palm of his hand grazed that bundle of nerves, and Nesta ground down hard against him, a moan finally falling from her lips as she chased the sensation. It seemed that was all it took to make Cassian break; his other hand was on her before the book had even hit the ground. Removing his fingers—a move that elicited a whimper from her—he moved his big hands underneath her ass and lifted her, placing her in his lap, his cock now firmly against her backside. Sliding his hands forward, he shifted so that her legs were braced on either side of his own, spread wide.

It was as if he’d been unleashed. One hand moved back to her waist, guiding her movements as she began grinding against him in earnest, the other returning to slip two fingers back inside her. Lips pressed against her neck, her jaw, and Nesta realized she had thrown her head back against his shoulder, leaving him with a perfect view of her body as it moved against him. When Cassian started speaking again, Nesta dragged her mind into some semblance of clarity, breath coming in panting gasps and pleasure hitting her in waves.

“Maybe I should read to you more often,” he said into her ear, letting his teeth drag against the shell of it. Nesta shuddered, and felt him drive his hips up, felt his cock rub harder against her ass as she did her best to ride his hand. The warm water lapped at her skin like a lover’s caress, the sensation only adding to her pleasure. Unbidden, a memory from their days at the lake so long ago flashed before her eyes, the feel of the rock he’d bent her over rough against her skin, that water cool against their legs as he pounded into her again and again and again. “Tell me, Nesta, when you read your books, do you think of me? When your book talks about someone’s head between their lover’s legs, do you think of my mouth on you, of my tongue in you?”

He knew she did, knew how often they’d be reading together in bed, only for her to cast her book aside and climb on top of him. But Nesta knew what it would do to him to hear her say it, knew she was still so eager to keep playing their game. “You felt how wet I was as you read, as you touched me. I was dripping from just the thought of you doing it all to me.” Her breath hitched and her hips stuttered as his fingers rubbing hard against that spot inside of her. Still, she had enough presence of mind left to let her hands tighten in his hair, to turn her head to press searing kisses to his jaw, breathing harshly against his skin. “I am always thinking about you, Cassian.”

It was a cheap shot, saying his name, but Nesta had never been above fighting dirty. He growled, and the sound rumbled through her, blood singing as his actions became harder, sharper, his thumb pressing rough circles to her bundle of nerves. Everything faded away, her focus narrowing to the feeling of his hands on her, his fingers in her, his cock against her rear. Her release barreled closer and closer with every ragged moan from her lips, with every hitched breath from his. Cassian was relentless, ferocious to the point where it toed that delicious line between pleasure and pain, between just right and too much.

Breath hot on her fevered skin, the hand at her waist moved to her breast, drops of water dripping down her chest. “Come for me, _mate_.” It was enough to send her over the edge, crying out in her release.

Cassian worked her through it, his hand keeping up its punishing pace until she collapsed against him. The water in the tub began to feel too hot against her flushed skin, sweat cooling on the parts of her body exposed to the air. Tenderly, so tenderly, Cassian’s hands had returned to rest on her abdomen again, rubbing soothing circles against the pale skin. But Nesta could still feel his hard cock pressing insistently against her, and by the time she had caught her breath, desire and _need_ had curled low in her gut once again.

In one smooth movement, she untangled their limbs and rose, turning to peer down at him as she stood in the tub. Nesta could live a millennium and not get tired of this, of him, of the sight of that blatant, hungry want written across every inch of his body. “Out. Now.” She was done playing—she needed him inside of her _immediately_.

Even before she’d ever dared admit it to herself, they’d always been on the same wavelength when it came to this, if nothing else, and it seemed this would be no exception. Nesta had scarcely taken a step away from the tub—not bothering to grab the towel, there was no reason to—before he was out as well. A large, calloused hand grabbed her wrist; Cassian used his grip to spin her around and into him, the distance disappearing between them before she could manage to gasp. A second later, and his free hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head back to meet her lips in a scorching kiss.

Nesta moaned, heat unfurling in her core, opening her lips to him without hesitation. The kiss was a battle, desperate with the need to devour. When Cassian’s hands dropped to her ass, lifting her off the ground, she wasted no time in wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. He’d felt divine against her back, but he felt even better pressed chest to chest as they were. The size difference between them never failed to make Nesta flush, to make Cassian hard, when they were in this position; her legs were spread wide to accommodate the breadth of his body, every part of her seemed so small compared to his hulking form when his hands covered so much skin as he held her up.

Consumed entirely by the kiss, Nesta hardly realized that he was moving until he was pressing her down into the cool fabric of their sheets. The sensation had goosebumps rising on her damp, fevered skin, and she shivered again in earnest as Cassian’s familiar weight settled in the cradle of her thighs. She kissed and kissed and kissed him, hands hungrily roving across his skin, tangling in his hair, desperate for any and all sensation. When he finally dropped a hand to guide himself to her entrance, though, she placed a hand on his chest to stop him.

Cassian pulled away just far enough to look into her eyes, confusion and concern clearing some of the lust in his eyes as his body stilled. Nesta just let her lips curl up in a slow, feral smile. “I want to ride you. I want you as deep in me as possible.” With a thrill, she watched his eyes grow impossibly darker, watched his smile turn into something predatory.

“Thought you were sore, Nes. Are you so desperate for my cock that you’re willing to make your muscles ache even more?” Nesta’s breath hitched, mind focusing wholly on the teasing drag of his fingers down her side, on the press of his length against her core. For a moment, all thought fled, and she almost caved, almost gave in just to feel him inside of her _now_.

But he arched an eyebrow as if he’d already won, and it was enough to snap everything back into focus. With a twist of her hips, she flipped their positions—a move he’d showed her during training that morning, a move that had nearly driven her to distraction then, a move that sent sore muscles screaming with enough intensity that she let out a hiss. Nesta _was_ sore, even the hot bath hadn’t fully eased her aches, but—“I’d like to be sore somewhere else, I think.” Hands splaying on his chest, she pushed herself up into a seated position, chin raised and peering at him down her nose, as regal as if she was a queen on her throne.

As soon as his hands settled on her hips, Nesta rose onto her knees, hand going between them to grab his cock. She stroked him lightly, teasingly, once, twice, the head rubbing against the wetness between her thighs. That hunger raging inside of her reached its peak as she watched as his breathing hitched, felt as his grip tightened until he was holding on hard enough to bruise. When their eyes met, she smirked, and then she was sinking onto him. Fast, not bothering to slowly stretch around his considerable size. She’d meant what she said: she wanted to feel sore here, too, wanted to think of how good he felt inside of her whenever she moved the next day.

With a moan, she threw her head back, pausing for only a second once she was seated fully on him. She was going to _devour_ him. Rising up, the drag of his length deep within her replaced the dull pain in her muscles with fire, with pleasure, and without delay, she sunk down on him again. And again, and again, setting a punishing pace. Hands braced against the hard planes of his stomach, she ground down on him, quickly losing control of the sounds leaving her mouth.

“Fuck, Nes, that’s it,” Cassian panted below her, and her eyes snapped down to meet his. The look on his face was as wrecked as she felt, and her inner walls clenched as she took it in. Another curse dripped from his lips, and his hands tightened, shifting to help guide her movements, driving her down harder and harder on his cock.

Rhythm barely faltering, she leaned down to meet his lips, hands going to tangle into those long, silken locks, pulling hard as she kissed him. It was little more than a messy slide of lips as she panted into his mouth. At the shift in angle, Cassian slid his hands down onto her ass and bit her lip hard as he began thrusting up into her, meeting her every stroke. “Your cock feels so huge like this— _fuck_ —I can feel you _everywhere_.” Nesta’s words were punctuated by breathless moans. She pulled away enough to be able to look between their bodies, enough to watch as his length hammered into her again and again. Cassian must have noted where her gaze had gone, for he growled and gave a particularly savage thrust that drew a cry from her lips, her pace stuttering.

She wanted to collapse onto him, wanted to let him drive into her harder and harder, wanted to let him take and take until they were both hurtling over the edge.

Instead, Nesta raked her nails down his chest in a hard line before pushing herself back up into a seated position. Taking her hands off abs she wanted to _taste_ , she braced her hands against his legs behind her. With her entire body now on display before him once more, offering an unencumbered view of where their bodies met, she picked up her pace anew. She impaled herself on him over and over, movements growing frantic with desperation, her release still little more than a speck on the horizon despite the pleasure hitting her in waves. The slapping of skin on skin sounded obscene even her moans, his grunts.

“Does that feel good, Nesta?” Cassian’s voice was little more than a low rumble, something dark and primal and hungry. “I can tell. Your cunt is soaked for me—can you feel how covered I am in you?”

It was enough to have her walls clenching around him, nearly enough to make her climax. Nearly, but not quite. Meeting his eyes again, she could see how close he was to his own release, could see him desperately trying to hold on until she could fall over the edge with him. A hand drifted from her hip towards where their bodies met, but she stilled him with a shake of her head. Nesta shifted again, back to her original position. Instead of rising up on her knees, though, she ground herself against him, settling into a frantic rocking motion that had her bundle of nerves rubbing deliciously against him.

“ _Fuck_.” The curse came out just shy of a yell from his lips, or maybe hers, and then she was shattering. As wave after wave of pleasure racked her body, Cassian lifted her up enough to slam hard and deep into her over and over again until he, too, was coming apart with a shout.

Collapsing forward, Nesta pressed her hands flat to Cassian’s chest and buried her face in his neck, breathing in his scent as she slowly caught her breath, slowly came back into her body. Arms shaking and breath as ragged as hers, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed her close. Nesta would have been content to lie there forever, tangled up in her mate and pleasantly sated. The ache in her muscles had turned into something lingering at the edges of her consciousness, drowned out by pleasure and satisfaction. She’d feel it, all of it, in the morning, she was sure; perhaps she could Cassian would give her a massage. A low, contented hum came from her at the thought, and she repeated the noise as he pressed a kiss to her temple, hands rubbing delicate, lazy circles on her sweat-slick skin.

“I should train you hard like that more often,” Cassian teased, speaking the words into her hair. Something in Nesta sparked at that, at the thought of the future, and all she could do was smile and nestle closer to this amazing male, to her mate.


End file.
